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paperboy - ditty (street) lyrics

[verse 1]
yo, this is how i’m comin’ for the nine-deuce
another fat -ss track, so rhythm d, pour the orange juice
and let’s relax while sippin’ on ‘gnac, because it’s like that
i’m conscious of hoes, so paperboy use prophylactic
i wear a jimmy for the skimmy that’s in the long trench
front row seat, so, yo, i know she’s on the nine inch
just to get a piece of the green, but she’s an undertaker
not knowin’ that paper is a motherf-ckin’ heartbreaker
many say i flow, but yo, had to have a breakdown
paid in full, so now you know why my belly’s round
pickin’ it right back up and scoopin’ up crowds just like a steam shovel
not from the ghetto, but yo, take me to another level
let the beat ride, but hold on to your woman, g
’cause now that i’m rich, so many b-tches wanna do me
it make a n-gga say “d-mn” (d-mn)
i’m finally taxin’ more than your n-gga sam (sam)
now let me speak with the weak, i mean the rookies
my time is held up extremely for cookies
just let me clock this grip in ninety-two
and you don’t bother me and i sure enough won’t bother you
and, uhh, you just watch a n-gga flowin’ like niagara
think before you step, because these lyrics just might stab ya
although i’m labeled with the black fade
it’s gold ds on my four and gold ‘lex ’cause i got it made
i broke the beat up once again because i had to
and just like jody watley, baby girl, i can have you
just let me work this track, and yo, any way is ok
your place or mine, all night until the next day
i gotta keep steppin’, lethal weapon can’t f-ck with paper
and those who oppose know how it goes when you catch the vapors
i dropped the nine yards to let you know i have the stamina
you wasn’t movin’ quick enough, so the ditty damaged ya
and now i’m a captain, but yo, my peoples don’t say “aye-aye”
walkin’ around the deck with more spinach than popeye
shootin’ this gift cuz pushin’ birds ain’t my best friend
although i’m strapped with a motherf-ckin’ mac-10, hook

[chorus]
do the ditty if you want to
because then i can see if i want you
just do the ditty, ditty if you want to
because then i can see if i want you
just do the ditty, ditty if you want to
because then i can see if i want you
just do the ditty, ditty if you want to
because then i can see if i want you

[verse 2]
now here we go, from the top, second verse of the same song
with the conclusion, hoes should be happy for the ding-dong
and since a n-gga clock a grip, g
it’s like every n-gga that i see be like, “do you remember me?”
a hustler and it’s known, with more hoes than lego
keep ’em chunky like prego, so n-ggas leggo my eggo
i have a tendency to flow, start off with my own groove and
pick up the mic and all of a sudden i see -ss movin’
guess it’s like magic, and paperboy is the magician
if i was a vacuum i’d be suckin’ up compet-tion
let it ride again, and yo, believe i got my own thing
straight bahama hoes, so miss me with the chicks from soul train
and i’m a break my note, just to show up tokin’
so have the zags when i scoop ’em ’cause we bud smokin’
a black man tryin’ to make it and that ain’t no fair
but just like bebe and cece, i’ll take you there
now let’s take a trip to another land
clock a grip, come back and watch the hoes tan
jump in the lex-o, and roll out to my cabin
believe me, my n-gga, more hoes than you can imagine
all on the ding-a-ling, just because the gold rings
but i’m like ‘what’s up witcha?’, you ain’t seen a d-mn thing
make sure you got the jim hat, strapped for protection
because to me, my life is more than my erection
and give me a hand, if you a fan, it ain’t over yet
’cause doin’ the ditty with paperboy makes the ocean sweat
leave you kinda startled like the funk off of fritos
make you man jealous, while hoes cheese like doritos
it ain’t my fault, i lay the pipe but with concern, and
i ain’t from mount vernon, but a n-gga’s money-earnin’
hooked up with rhythm, he dropped a track and it faded
so i spit some game, put it on wax, and we made it
now we just chillin’, clockin’ a grip on the overseas
but watch out for paper, ’cause he’s takin’ out the wanna-bes
gettin’ his clown, outta town, ’cause it’s only right
but not with the chickens, i’m double platinum and my show is tight
and don’t disagree, and then jock, ’cause that’s a pity
just bob your head for platinum-boy and the ditty

yeah
and to the n-ggas from [?]
my n-gga jazz
my n-gga shay
reddy red
my engineer, the sl!cksta
nine-out

- paperboy lyrics

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